


let me (learn to) love you

by sysupportgroup



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Fae & Fairies, M/M, Minor Jeon Wonwoo/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi, Minor Lee Jihoon | Woozi/Wen Jun Hui | Jun, Preschool Teacher Hong Jisoo | Joshua, Selkies, Single Parent Choi Seungcheol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 03:15:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17154254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sysupportgroup/pseuds/sysupportgroup
Summary: “My son married you to me because he doesn’t like grilled fish?” Leaning puzzledly on the wall, Seungcheol stares blankly into the air like he can’t comprehend this concept at all.  “Why didn’t he just tell me? Also why doesn’t he like grilled fish - who doesn’t like grilled fish?”Or, the one in which Hong Joshua gets married through the simple act of returning a coat.





	let me (learn to) love you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kenkajoutou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenkajoutou/gifts).



> dear recipient! this was a labour of love that turned into hate when i found it completely ballooning out of control. i hope you don't mind that i mashed up two of your prompts - the pre-school teacher/single dad + supernatural elements - and that you're tolerating of this meagre (messy af and also late yikes) offering
> 
> merry christmas !!

There really is never a dull day when you’re working with kids, Joshua thinks to himself wryly as he tries to clean up the last of the slime splattered on the roof of the playhouse. How exactly it had gotten up there, he’s not quite sure and isn’t ready to ask (though it might have something to do with why Yuto was glowing in the dark during naptime). Scooting out of the playhouse, he sits up with a wince and rolls his shoulders, trying to work the kinks out. The mess gets thrown in the bin and then he moves onto doing one last sweep of the classroom, neatening toys in their boxes and organising papers into piles. His coworkers always poke fun at him for being a neat freak, calling him compulsive just because he can’t let that one drawing be pinned crookedly or leave the chairs not tucked in overnight.

 

(“You have a problem.” Haein tells him solemnly, Wheein backing her up with poker-faced nodding before they both burst out laughing at his mock-offended expression. They’ve gone through this song and dance a billion times.

 

“Seriously, it won’t kill you to leave on time for once.” Wheein adds and oh, that’s new. She’s less humoured and more concerned when they both come down from their high, mouth twisted into a neutral slash. “You’re always the last one to leave - I can’t believe you actually want to stay longer when Haein and I always disappear as soon as pick-up’s over.”

 

“Yeah,” Haein chimes in, eyes uncommonly serious, “it makes us feel kinda guilty you know? You’re always working so hard - leave something for the cleaners some time, maybe?”

 

“Don’t feel guilty,” Joshua shakes his head, tutting, and shoots them his best reassuring smile, “it’s always my choice to stay behind! It just makes me feel happier when the classroom’s all tidy, that’s all there is to it.”

 

And it’s true except it’s not at the same time. It’s just kind of sad to tell your coworkers that you derive some sort of happiness from cleaning the classroom because there’s nothing more exciting waiting for you outside of school hours. Wheein’s got her partner to head home to and Haein’s got her dance troupe’s practice in the evenings but Joshua… well, he’s just got Gordon Ramsey and Netflix squirreled away as his dirty little secret.)

 

Humming a pop tune absently under his breath, he wanders between the tables to the apron rack, loosening up the strings at his back to remove the green garment. It was one of the better days today, he concludes, scrutinising the front closely - no vomit or food stains in sight.

 

He’s about to hang it up when he notices a grey coat dangling on his designated peg, very obviously out of place.

 

“Oh shit,” he murmurs, pinching the bridge of his nose, switching it with his apron. He remembers taking this from Seungkwan today, hanging it up at the child’s request since the coat is definitely in the realm of excessively thick for the heating of the classroom or to fit in any of the cubbyholes. Seungkwan was meant to get it from him after class but come to think about it, he wasn’t even in the pick-up zone this afternoon. Odd. He must’ve caught the bus instead.

 

Joshua looks out of the window and bites his lip. The wind whips through the trees outside, shaking their branches something awful, and a passer-by shivers, pulling their padding closer around them, as they pass by the kindergarten’s window. For Seungkwan to have headed home in this weather and then possibly come to school without his coat tomorrow...

 

He looks back at the coat in his hands and purses his lips. Well, it’s not like he has anything to do anyway.

 

//

 

“Shua hyung!”

 

“Soonyoung.” Joshua clicks his tongue amusedly, resolutely keeping both eyes on the road and both hands on the wheel as his neighbour’s enthusiastic voice fills the car. “What’s up?”

 

“Couldn’t I just want to talk to my favourite hyung?” Soonyoung says coyly, the auditory equivalent batting his eyelashes. Something’s up.

 

“I mean you could but then you’d be calling up Jeonghan instead.” Joshua says, injecting as much melodrama as possible, sniffing imaginary tears away. “It’s okay, Soonyoung-ah, you’re still _my_ favourite neighbour.”

 

“Ugh, you’re really hanging out with him too much.” Soonyoung complains, breaking away from his wheedling tone, petulance evident in his voice. “Man, I should’ve never introduced you two.”

 

Joshua snorts, rolling his eyes, and drops the act, “Yeah, yeah, well the damage is done, no take-backsies.” He drums his fingers on the wheel, double-checking Seungkwan’s address at the next red light. He was lucky enough that a slip of paper, presumably Seungkwan’s address, was present in the coat’s pocket, near enough to the school that Joshua’s good samaritan instincts can’t be deterred. “Is there something you wanted, Soonyoung-ah? I’m just driving right now so…”

 

“Oh, shit sorry.” Soonyoung clears his throat, sounding suspiciously casual. “Just wanted to know whether you wanted to come over for dinner tonight - split take out or something y’know, Jihoon is over right now and he had a craving for delivery - you know how he is - and the more people the more dishes so - ” there’s the faint sound of flesh hitting flesh in the background and then Soonyoung’s low whine of pain, disguised as a terrible hacking cough. Joshua’s mouth ticks up at the corner, unable to hide his amusement.

 

“Look, just come.” Soonyoung wheezes weakly.

 

“Mmm,” Joshua pretends to mull it over, “just dinner, huh?”

 

“Yep.” Soonyoung confirms and Joshua has to give it to him, he only sounds a touch nervy, “Just dinner.”

 

“Just dinner and not another badly-disguised ‘intervention’?” Joshua says dryly, eyeing down a car in the lane next to him trying to push in. He gives enough emphasis to _intervention_ that he’s pretty sure even Soonyoung’s oblivious mind will pick up on the air quotes.

 

“Uh…” Soonyoung stalls and then there’s muffled whispers filtering in through the car’s Bluetooth, not clear enough for him to make any words out. Someone must’ve covered the receiver.

 

“Hi hyung.” A blunt voice takes over.

 

“Hi Jihoonie,” Joshua tries to keep his tone light though his mood is beginning to sour by the minute. He knows what game his friends are playing and he doesn’t take kindly to being treated like a fool. It also doesn’t help that the car trying to push in just honked at him, that bastard. Jeez… Not for the first time, he wishes he was fae so he could have an excuse to justify his petty side, “heard you wanted to order delivery tonight.”

 

“Yeah.” Jihoon says brusquely. “Junnie found a new Chinese place he wants to try out so we’re gonna sample the menu. You’ll regret it if you don’t come over - he says it seems pretty authentic.”

 

“Right,” Joshua drawls out disbelievingly, “Chinese food and grilling me about my love life again, sounds like a thrilling Wednesday night.”

 

Jihoon snorts incredulously, “I assure you _I_ have no interest in your love life, Shua hyung. I just want a shit ton of lamb skewers.”

 

“Lamb skewers?”

 

His stomach lets out a gurgle at the thought and he looks down at it, betrayed.

 

Jihoon’s voice is triumphant when he speaks again, getting excited at the thought of another prospective stomach joining them, “So that’s a yes, right?”

 

“It’s tempting...” Joshua hedges, hating how he’s actually considering it. Pros: having a delicious dinner sorted for tonight, mostly pleasant company. Cons: Soonyoung (and probably Junhui) not so subtly poking around in his affairs and/or touting their latest single ‘friend’s’ Instagram under his nose whilst he tries to consume his noodles in peace. He gets that they’re both happily in love with their respective partners and only want the best for him but fuck, if the constant wiggling eyebrows and offers of blind dates haven’t gotten old by now. “I’ll come if we ban all talk about my love life, okay?”

 

“Well _I’m_ fine with that,” Jihoon sighs tiredly, his breath filling the receiver with static, “if it makes you feel better, I’ll try to keep Junnie under control.”

 

“What about Soonyoung? I know you’re listening in, by the way.”

 

“But hyung! Wonwoo’s got a new coworker and he’s _hot,_ like sexy librarian levels of hot. Are you _sure_ you don’t want - “

 

“Absolutely sure.” Joshua cuts him off firmly, instantly regretting his harshness when Soonyoung makes a wilting noise. He huffs and smooths out his tone, moulding it softer. “I just don’t have time for dating right now, Soonyoung-ah. I appreciate the thought, I do, but try not to attack me with hot young singles in my area for tonight. Please?”

 

Soonyoung groans like he’s been incredibly put upon but, much to Joshua’s relief, relents. “Fine,” he whines, a little sulky, “no profiles. Tonight.”

 

“Great,” Joshua sighs in a rush, burden on his shoulders lightened, “I’ll be over around 7. I’ve got to drop something off first.”

 

“Alright hyung, we’ll see you in a bit - oh,” Soonyoung stops and listens to someone’s shout in the background, “Wonwoo’s asking if you can pick up some fortified soju on your way.” He scoffs, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “ _Paranormals_ , am I right? So expensive.”

 

Joshua snorts in amusement, making a turn off into the apartment block where Seungkwan lives. “Yeah totally. Paranormals, how terrible.”

 

“I heard that, hyung!” Another voice bites out in the background, followed by an even tinnier one echoing the same sentiment.

 

“You were meant to, Jihoon-ah.” Joshua parks carefully and clambers out of his car into the cold, pressing his phone to his ear as he drapes the coat draped over his arm. It’s strangely heavy, he observes, now that he’s holding it in his arms, a different fabric from the kinds of coats he sees in department stores or shop windows. It’s not really fur or down; the outside has a slight sheen and slickness to it and Joshua frowns down at it in the elevator ride up, unable to place his finger on the material, just hefting it up and down to test its weight. “It’s not easy for Soonyoungie and I to be the only humans amongst you lot.”

 

“ _Exactly._ This is why I love you best hyung,” Soonyoung laughs, distinct and high-pitched, “you get me.”

 

Jihoon makes a disgusted noise somewhere near the receiver and then there are the sound of footsteps and a tussle, protesting complaints fading out in the background, “Sorry hyung,” Jihoon drones, a slight apologetic hint to his tone, “I just remembered this is my phone and Soonyoung’s draining all my fucking credit - gonna have to hang up soon so I can see what the damage is.”

 

“That’s fine.” Joshua replies, looking up as the elevator _dings_ to signal he’s arrived, “I gotta go too anyways. I’ll see you tonight.”

 

“Yeah,” Jihoon mumbles, sounding vaguely relieved that Joshua isn’t mad or anything, “oh - can you get that soju brand I like, by the way. The one with the - “

 

“ - angels on the label, right? The one that doesn’t turn you red?” Joshua finishes off Jihoon’s sentence for him, grinning fondly into the receiver, “Yeah yeah, will do.”

 

“Cool.” Jihoon says, never one to mince words, “Thanks hyung, see you tonight.”

 

“See you.” Joshua hums and then the line goes dead, leaving him to wander the corridor in search for unit number thirteen. He finally discovers it, coming to a stop in front of a copy paste door, exactly the same as the rest that lined the hallway. It is however accentuated by a non-standard doormat that shows waves crashing against a rock over and over again. There’s a doorbell resting slightly below eye-level. He presses it. No response. He presses it again.

 

“Seungcheol!” A small boisterous voice yells from the inside of the apartment, so loud that it couldn’t have been anyone other than Seungkwan. A rush of fondness fills Joshua’s chest: he’s not meant to play favourites but the boy’s incredibly good at winning hearts. “The door!”

 

A mix of sounds follow: a brief scuffle, a whiny voice of complaint, then the rush of footsteps and a muffled curse. The door swings open right after and - Oh.

 

Joshua takes a step back subconsciously, blinking rapidly in an effort to regain his composure. When he heard Seungkwan address someone else without honorifics, he’d assumed a sibling of the sort. The person standing in front of him though, is definitely not a child. Black hair damp from what must’ve been a shower, the man’s only dressed in a pair of boxer shorts and a towel slung around his neck, ignorant and uncaring about his half-nakedness on display to the entire hallway.

 

“Oh.” Joshua lets slip out of his mouth before gathering his senses about him, ignoring the flush up to his ears as he does his best to avoid looking lower than the man’s collarbones. “Um, hello there.”

 

“Hi?” The man ventures, cocking his head to the side and boy, those eyes are pretty. “Can I help you?”

 

“Are - ” oh gosh, even the collarbones are distracting. Eyes up Josh, eyes up, “are you Seungkwan’s father?”

 

“Oh,” the man frowns, digging one end of the towel into his ear, “yes?” It sounds more like a question than anything else.

 

“Well that’s. Great.” Joshua swallows and looks down at the doormat, suddenly very absorbed in the moving picture. The witch who did this must’ve been very talented, maybe he should get one for his place. “Uh, I’m Hong Joshua, one of Seungkwan’s kindergarten teachers. I’m here to drop off this coat he left behind today.” He motions stiffly to the coat hanging over his arm. “The weather’s getting cold and it’d be a shame if Seungkwan caught a cold so um, here it is.” Not waiting for the other man to respond, he transfers the coat draped over his arm into the man’s slack arms, hesitating to say anything more as the other just stares from his face to the coat to his face again, speechless.

 

...shit, was it weird for him to drop by? Welp, damage’s been done anyhow. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s made a faux paus in front of an attractive parent and it won’t be the last. Time for him to get out of here.

 

“Apologies if I’ve interrupted something,” Joshua coughs out, looking down at an imaginary watch and chuckling nervously, “I’ll just be off now. Give my best to Seungkwan, he’s a lovely kid.” He gives the man a nod, regretting it instantly when his gaze accidentally travels up pale toned stomach, glossed over by a sheen of water.

 

It’s suddenly very hot out here in the hallway - whatever happened to proper ventilation?

 

He forces a weak smile on his face and gives Seungkwan’s father a brief wave before zooming back down the hallway, speed-walking in a way that would beat the flock of ahjummas that circle his block every morning. In the back of his mind, he thinks he imagines someone shouting after him before the elevator shuts. He doesn’t bother giving it a second thought though, not once he catches a glimpse of his own flustered expression in his car’s rear view mirror and decides to take off immediately like leaving the premise would also leave his own embarrassment behind.

 

And on a totally unrelated note, if he has more than a few sips of fortified soju tonight well, only God can judge him.

 

//

 

“Who’s hungry, hmm? Hansol-ah, are you ready for lunch? What about you Dahyun?” Joshua claps his hands together, rousing the attention of his preschoolers at the mention of food.

 

A bleating chorus of cheers rise from the children and Joshua grins before quickly replacing it with a confused expression, holding his hand to his ear.

 

“Oh? No one wants lunch? I guess seonsaengnim is going to eat it all by himself…”

 

“No!

 

“You can’t!”

 

 _“_ Ssaem has to share!”

 

“I can’t?” Joshua brings his hand up to his open mouth, acting surprised before bowing his head, chastised. “Okay, I’ll be fair then. If everyone can wash their hands and sit back down in ten minutes, then we can all eat together, alright?”

 

“Okay!” Jieqiong jumps to her feet and hollers, clapping authoritatively. “Everyone! To the sinks! Go, go, go!”

 

Joshua chuckles at her energy and the buzz of excitement that suddenly fills the room, the children either scampering away to stick their hands underneath the water or dragging others to their feet. He runs a hand through his hair, trusting in his colleagues to supervise them, and retreats to the hallway to check on the meal trolley.

 

Just as he steps into the corridor, Minji nearly crashes right into him. That in itself is a little odd - usually he only sees her at the beginning and end of his work day, the bright receptionist always looking up to give him a cheerful wave hello and goodbye. Today though, she regards him with only thinly disguised suspicion.

 

“Hong-ssaem?” She coughs, averting her eyes. “You uh, have a visitor.”

 

“A visitor?” Joshua frowns in confusion. He’s wracking his brain for possible candidates but no one comes up unless it’s Soonyoung urgently needing something, or maybe Jeonghan if there’s an emergency going on somewhere. He fights the tight uneasiness in his chest, keeping his voice level. “But it’s school hours. Is there an emergency, Minji-ssi? I’m not expecting anyone, much less at work.”

 

“Oh really,” she drags out, sweeping her eyes critically over his face, “no one? No one at all?”

 

“Uh,” Joshua says slowly, brain racing to scrutinise anything and everything he’s ever told Jeonghan that his sneaky best friend could turn into rumours at his workplace. He comes up with a blank, “not really. Unless…” he freezes in place, face paling. Fuck. He already _told_ Soonyoung not to offload his hard drive onto him last night - yes, Soonyoung, he does like anime but he officially draws the line at hentai, okay? Even _he_ has standards (though he’s not sure he can say the same for Wonwoo). He really doesn’t know what else he can possibly say to convince Soonyoung that no, Wonwoo won’t break up with you just because of some animated porn, regardless of how many tentacles there are in it. He sacrificed three years of meat just to be with you, Soonyoung, that pearl around your neck isn’t just for show!

 

“Jeez,” he drops his head into his hands and groans, muttering a curse lowly so that none of the kids hear him, “look, if it’s who I think it is, would you please just tell him I don’t want it, Minji-ssi? There are better uses of his time than coming here, especially during school hours.”

 

Minji frowns at his words, disapproval plain over her features like she can’t believe how heartless he’s being right now. Joshua snorts internally - she wouldn’t be pulling that face if she knew what exactly was stored on that three terabyte hard drive. “But Hong-ssaem, he put all that time into making it for you… Plus he came all the way here…”

 

“Yeah, well he’s a bit of a weirdo,” Joshua shakes his head exasperatedly though he bleeds fondness at the upturned corners of his mouth. He wants to be mad because it’s school hours and Soonyoung should know better, _especially_ considering the content, but well. It’s Soonyoung. “Fine, fine. He can pass it to you and I’ll collect it at the end of the day if you’re okay with that, Minji-ssi.”

 

He’ll collect it and then promptly slide it back under Soonyoung and Wonwoo’s apartment door, that’s what he’ll do. Or well, fantasise about doing so and maybe torment Soonyoung with a few strategically worded voice messages even as he begrudgingly shoves it into the back of his wardrobe, the much more realistic probability.

 

“The end of the day?” Minji runs her tongue over dry lips, smacking them together. “I guess I’m okay with that but wouldn’t you rather have it now?” She breaks off her thought, shaking her head, “Unless it’d make the kids uncomfortable… Figures, I forget how considerate you are sometimes.”

 

Joshua blinks, feeling strangely lost, like he’d missed a vital signpost in this conversation a long way back. Surely anyone would naturally conclude that having... _that kind of content_ near kids is uncomfortable.

 

“Wait Minji-ssi, who - or what - exactly is - “

 

“Hey Joshua,” a tap comes at his shoulder, Haein’s concerned expression coming into view, “is everything alright? Everyone’s all washed up now, we’re just waiting for you.”

 

“Ah, my bad.” Joshua winces and turns back to face Minji with an apologetic expression. “Sorry I gotta - “

 

“Don’t be sorry,” Minji rolls her eyes good-naturedly, “hungry kids are hungry kids. Meal trolley’s coming your way in a few - good luck entertaining the hangry hordes until then.” Seemingly struck by a thought, she suddenly claps her hands together and then rubs them gleefully, instantly filling Joshua with wariness.

 

“Actually, y’know you should look forward to the trolley too.” She shoots off peppily as a parting remark, scurrying back to her front desk before he can get a word in. There’s some kind of implication there but Joshua doesn’t have the luxury to read into it right now, not when Juyeon is already beginning to compose a ballad to her starving innards in the background.

 

The meal trolley takes a suspiciously long amount of time to come, more than the few minutes Joshua was promised. It takes a few clapping games and all the patience he and his colleagues have between them to stop a mini rebellion in their classroom, before they’re finally saved by the sound of wheels squeaking closer by the second.

 

“Back to your tables everyone!” Wheein chirps, rounding them up and then shooing them all back with a massive smile on her face that Joshua could never match, even on a good day. “C’mon everyone, pick a seat! Sooner we all sit, the sooner we eat!”

 

Wiping his freshly washed hands off at the sinks, Joshua adjusts his apron and helps Wheein out in settling the kids, leaving Haein waiting for the trolley at the door.

 

“Hong-ssaem,” Haein calls out, a strange note underpinning her voice like she’s holding back a secret, “could you serve today’s lunch please?”

 

“Of course,” Joshua answers, a little confused but rising to the occasion anyways despite the kids at his table whining for him to stay. Haein usually handles this by herself, it’s a little strange that she needs his help today. Maybe there’s something in the food that she’s allergic to or... He looks to the door and catches the flick of Minji’s ponytail as she hightails it out and his senses go on high alert.

 

“Hi.” Joshua says guardedly, making his way to the centre of the room, a little wary when it’s not the usual part-timer that’s standing behind the trolley. Haein’s not in sight, dropped off to the side of the room somewhere and, when Joshua casts a look around, whispering frantically to Wheein. Everything’s reeking of foul play, he just has no idea what the game is.

“I… haven’t seen you around here before.”

 

“Oh,” the part-timer says, voice muffled under his food mask though his dark eyes are left revealed, roving over Joshua’s face. It’s disquieting enough that Joshua busies himself immediately, fishing out a mask from the pouch hanging off the trolley and hands moving automatically to fill lunch trays with rice, banchan and today’s soup and stew, “I um, I don’t actually work here.”

 

“Uh.” Joshua straightens up cautiously, having half a mind to call Haein back for back-up just in case. “Okay? Who are you then?” _And should I be calling security?_

 

“Uh,” the part-timer hesitantly pulls down his mask to reveal his face and. Oh. The fuck? Joshua balks as his brain slots things into place, because it’s unmistakably him, the same man who opened the door to Joshua last night. Long lashes, dark hair, disturbingly handsome and right now, looking severely out of place.

 

“Aren’t you Seungkwan’s father?”

 

“I - yes. That’s me, I guess.”

 

“And you’re here disguised as a part-timer because…?”

 

“Oh um...” Seungkwan’s father shifts his weight awkwardly, hands hovering awkwardly around the rice scoop like he’s unsure whether he’s got permission to help or not. Joshua looks at him skeptically but nods, giving him the go ahead as he hands off a filled tray to the closest table, motioning for Hyunggu to pass it down. He’ll trust him for now by pure virtue of being Seungkwan’s dad, but any funny business and he won’t hesitate to sic Wheein on him.

 

“Well, I actually came to see you to give you some things but then the receptionist - Minji-ssi? - said I should give it to you myself and then next thing I knew, I was pushing this into the room.” He giggles under the mask, high-pitched and nervous, a sound that Joshua would have never expected from someone looking like him. Forget the intimidating first impression he had of this man, he’s definitely more naive and babylike than Joshua would’ve expected. “Surprise?”

 

“Okay?” Joshua drags out warily, cursing out Minji’s connivingness in his head. “Boo-ssi, I don’t mean any offence but if you wanted to schedule a parent-teacher meeting - “

 

“Oh um, my name is Choi actually. Choi Seungcheol. And this,” Seungcheol fumbles with something on a lower shelf in the trolley and pulls it out to present it to Joshua. It’s a cute lunchbox, a proper one made from solid pink plastic and buckled tight, “this is for you. To eat.”

 

“Um.” Too polite to refuse a gift, Joshua gently takes the lunchbox from Seungcheol’s hands and tucks it below on the exact same shelf it was taken from. He’s got to check school policy about bribery later but Minji’s comments make more sense in retrospect now. Thank God it wasn’t actually Soonyoung’s hard drive, “Look Choi Seungcheol-ssi, I appreciate the thought but if this is to thank me for last night, I assure you it’s not necessary and maybe,” he looks around, pointedly at the curious little faces peering at them, “not a great time either.”

 

“Oh,” Seungcheol says, a furrow to his eyebrows, “right. I’m sorry - I must’ve uh…” He sighs glumly, starting to distribute filled trays to a second table of kids, “Seungkwannie just insisted that I had to do this as soon as possible so I didn’t offend you or something and this was the soonest I could get off work so - “

 

“Seungkwannie insisted that you had to give me a boxed lunch?” Joshua arches an eyebrow, less harsh than he intended, softening immediately at the mention of Seungkwan’s name. “Ah, is he sick today? Are you doing this on his behalf?”

 

“No - I mean yes,” Seungcheol flounders around, patting his pockets frantically, “sort of? He just told me about the human way, to be respectful and stuff and showed me some uh films and stuff where the girl cried but wait uh no, this is from me - “

 

He finally finds what he’s looking for and pulls it out triumphantly, the item too small for Joshua to get a proper glimpse. He promptly drops to his knees, right in the middle of the classroom, looking up at Joshua, eyes glimmering with puppyish enthusiasm

 

“What the - “ Joshua voices out, confused and more than a little weirded out.

 

“Oh bother, wait.” Seungcheol yelps, tugging down his mask and propping one leg up so he’s now on bended knee and _holding a ring out to him_ _what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck -_

 

“Will you marry me?” Seungcheol pronounces and he doesn’t look like he’s joking, holding the ring up as high as he can go.

 

“...what the _fuck_.” Joshua croaks.

 

A heartbeat of silence.

 

“Ssaem said a bad word!” Yeri yells, accidentally letting loose a stream of fire and torching the table from her excitement. Unsurprisingly, the classroom explodes into pandemonium.

 

//

 

In retrospect, Joshua should’ve probably seen it coming. Except not, because well, this probably verges more on the ‘problematic rom-com practices that shouldn’t happen in real life’ than meet-cute.

 

“Good morning Seungkwan!” Joshua settles on Seungkwan’s table after doing a round of the tables, praising everyone’s drawings with as much enthusiasm as he can muster on a Monday morning. “What are you drawing there, hmm?”

 

“My family!” Seungkwan chirps boisterously, finishing off a yellow stroke across the page with a flourish of his crayon. For only having moved here a month back, Seungkwan is adapting surprisingly well, charming his classmates and teachers in equal measures. Well, not that it’s hard really - he’s a bright child, overflowing with the kind of positivity that Joshua finds hard to discover in himself nowadays, dragged down by the mundanity of adulthood. There isn’t a teacher in this kindergarten that doesn’t adore him. “Can’t you tell, Hong-ssaem?”

 

“Oh of course it is, how silly of me.” Joshua scoots closer to peer at the drawing, smiling to himself in amusement at the faceless stick figure decorating the page. Absentmindedly, he reaches out a hand to adjust Seungkwan’s bangs, waiting for the child to dip his head in permission before gently brushing the strands into place. He’s long since given up wondering why Seungkwan always comes in with messy hair, settling for just fixing it himself. “Who’s this?”

 

“Mmmmm,” Seungkwan’s lower lip juts out in concentration as he puts the yellow crayon back into its box and combs through it clumsily in search of a different colour. He finally comes up, triumphant, with a orange crayon in hand and starts doodling another shape next to the yellow figure, “it’s mummy!” He jabs a chubby finger at the yellow stick figure and oh yeah, now that Joshua squints, those head-tentacle things are totally meant to be long hair. “She likes tangerines and singing and yellow and she’s the best.” Seungkwan says solemnly, nodding at the circular object held in the yellow figure’s hand.

 

“She does sound lovely,” Joshua says kindly, still stroking Seungkwan’s hair though getting a little distracted as Tingyan flaps past him with a marker raised high in the air like a sword, merciless as she chases down a panicked Wooseok. Sensing the need for intervention but not wanting to get up, he signals Haein from across the room to the issue, catching her eye with an exaggerated stretch.

 

 _What_? She mouths at him quizzically, somehow not alerted to the mini tornado tearing up their classroom.

 

Joshua angles his head subtly towards a cackling Tingyan in answer, her marker ready to rain some kind of righteous justice onto a cornered Wooseok’s only-somewhat-snotty-today face.

 

 _Oh shit_. This, she doesn’t say out loud but it’s reflected in the way she blanches and immediately swoops into action, promising Meiqi some extra seaweed at lunch if she behaves before jumping to her feet to separate the other kids. Bless her soul.

 

“ - not around anymore so I’m living with daddy but he only cooks fish! Just fish!”

 

Oh shit, Seungkwan’s been talking. Joshua checks back into the tailend of the conversation, making noises of sympathy in his throat to indicate he’s been listening. Seungkwan reaches out towards the middle of the table to swap the orange crayon with a grey one, returning to his drawing with renewed vigor.

 

“ _Just_ fish? You should ask him to cook other things then, if you don’t like it that much.”

 

“He’s kinda bad at life.” Seungkwan rolls his eyes rather sassily for a five year old. “And he’s not good at cooking other things - he can’t even make cereal!” Seungkwan pouts, looking up at him with wide grey eyes. “What about Hong-ssaem?”

 

“Ssaem? Can _I_ make cereal?”

 

“Yeah,” Seungkwan nods firmly, “can ssaem cook?”

 

“I - “ Joshua hedges, unsure whether this question warrants boasting about his pasta talents or if it’s a little sad, promoting himself to gain a five year old’s approval, “well, I _like_ cooking. Recipe books aren’t too hard to follow and it’s nice to eat something you’ve made yourself, right?” He hums, thinking, “I’ve made decent steak before. Simple stews. And tacos, uh, sort of.” If you count the boxed ones, ‘cooking’.

 

“Woah,” Seungkwan looks at him, awed, pausing his dedicated rendition of a grey blob, “ssaem’s so cool! Ta-gos sound yummy too!”

 

“Ta- _co_ s.” Joshua corrects him gently, preening a little under the praise. “And thank you Seungkwan-ah - why don’t you ask your parents whether you can make them together for dinner sometime? They’re not difficult and they’re super good.” He clicks his tongue gently as he notices Seungkwan’s jumper sleeve dragging on the paper, making the boy push them up every few seconds. “Hang on - turn towards me for a bit, Seungkwan-ah?”

 

Seungkwan obliges without protest, still holding his crayon nice and tight as Joshua rolls up Seungkwan’s sleeves fold by fold until they’re just above his elbows on both sides.

 

“There we are,” Joshua gives Seungkwan a little pat, signalling that all is well again, “now you can draw better without worrying about your nice jumper.”

 

Seungkwan doesn’t turn back straightaway, looking at him intently for longer than Joshua would’ve thought his attention span was capable of.

 

“Ssaem,” Seungkwan says, finally turning away from him to stare at his page. There’s the yellow figure, Seungkwan’s mother, on the left side, linking hands with a smaller orange figure, likely Seungkwan. Next to it is a grey blob, more animal shaped than human but Joshua doesn’t pay the difference too much mind. Kids have creativity off the charts, he couldn’t hope to ever understand the workings of their brains, “you’re really nice.”

 

“Oh,” Joshua blinks rapidly, unsure how to respond to the unusual quietness of his voice, “thank you Seungkwan-ah. You’re very nice too.”

 

“And ssaem can cook.”

 

“I uh, yes? I guess I can.”

 

“And ssaem knows how to fold up my sleeves and comb my hair...”

 

“Uh huh…? “

 

“Can Hong-ssaem marry me?” Seungkwan wonders abruptly, completely sincere.

 

“W-woah there,” Joshua laughs, running a hand through his hair awkwardly now that he sees where this line of questioning is going, “you’re a little bit young for marriage, aren’t you Seungkwan-ah? Plus ssaem could have a partner already - “

 

“Do you?”

 

“Uh,” Joshua blanches, caught off-guard. He’s not about to spill the details of his dry-ass love life to one of his kids, no way. “Well no but - “

 

“Then ssaem should marry me.” Seungkwan sniffs, arms crossing across his body. “Hong-ssaem should marry me and cook me not-fish food and help me comb my hair and - “

 

“Ssaem uh,” Joshua searches his brain for something to say that won’t result in a melodramatic fit of tears, “is just a little bit too old for you, Seungkwan-ah.” He clears his throat uncomfortably when Seungkwan visibly hunches into himself, face turned towards the ground. Jeez, why aren’t there courses out there that teach you how to kindly reject a kid’s first confession? “Plus, you know, you don’t have to be married to someone else to make them food and comb their hair - your family can do that for you too.”

 

Seungkwan sniffs and makes to wipe his nose with the back of his arm, “Can ssaem be my family then?”

 

Joshua lets out an invisible sigh of relief, pulling out a tissue from his apron pocket and leaning down to dab sweetly at Seungkwan’s face. Situation defused. “It would be an honour if you thought of me as family, Seungkwan-ah.”

 

A sunny grin lights up Seungkwan’s eyes and stretches his soft cheeks out, his small hand flying up to hold Joshua’s arm tight. His excitement is palpable and warms Joshua’s heart, the boy practically diving into the colour box to fish out a new crayon for his picture.

 

“I’ll put you into my family then!”

 

//

 

“My son married you to me because he doesn’t like grilled fish?” Leaning puzzledly on the wall, Seungcheol stares blankly into the air like he can’t comprehend this concept at all.  “Why didn’t he just tell me? Also why doesn’t he like grilled fish - who doesn’t like _grilled fish_?”

 

“My neighbour has an allergy.” Joshua offers numbly, still staring at the ring glimmering in the palm of his hand. Normally the smells here at the back of the kindergarten would disturb him, the back lot filled with nothing but dumpsters and a corner for smoking, neither of which produce very desirable scents. Right now though, it doesn’t seem like he has any other choice given that he’s still on the clock. Saved by the bell - or rather, post-lunch naptime and coworkers who can _actually_ sense when something’s off.

 

Seungcheol makes a displeased noise in his throat. “Humans are so weird,” he mumbles childishly, bottom lip jutting out, “first you tie the value of everlasting matings to intrinsically worthless hunks of crystallised carbon and next, you don’t appreciate the amazingness of fish! That you don’t have to catch with your teeth!” He looks at Joshua, indignant expression on his face. “They’re just all laid out in front of you at the supermarket - _already dead_!” Crossing his arms, he hunches into himself sulkily. “You have no idea how slippery those bastards can be.”

 

“Mmhmm,” Joshua says dazed, flipping the ring over in his palm again, “yeah. Humans. Weird.” His knees are still wobbly jelly and don’t seem to be on the path to solidification anytime soon. He thinks he might have even blacked out for a few minutes back there, not remembering anything between trying to detach screaming kids from his leg and standing out here talking with his - he looks down at the ring, fighting the hysterical urge to fling it into one of the dumpsters - husband?

 

Seungcheol catches his vacant stare, incidentally focused on the ring and furrows his brow. “I-Is this rock not expensive enough for a human union? The saleslady told me it was a good one and that you’d be happy and _she_ certainly seemed happy to sell it to me but I can get another one if - “

 

“No, no, no.” Joshua stops him mid-ramble, feeling more than ever like he’s just right in the midst of a fever dream. “Sorry. I just.” He scrubs his free hand over his face, feeling oddly vulnerable like either tears or laughter will burst forth at any second like emotional alien tentacles. “I’m just processing that I’m. We’re. You know.”

 

“Bound in everlasting union until one or both of our deaths?” Seungcheol offers, steadying him in alarm when it looks like Joshua might keel over.

 

“...Sure.” Joshua says weakly, fighting back the choke of hysteria. His mum is going to _freak_. “Let’s go with that.”

 

//

 

“C’mon,” Joshua lets the straw fall from his mouth, agitated, fingers drumming restlessly on the table top. A girl scowls at him two tables away, eyes flashing red in annoyance and he bites back his urge to scowl back. Provoking a werewolf in a confined space is never a good idea. He settles for bouncing his leg instead, picking at a loose string on his shirt, “there seriously aren’t any loopholes for a selkie marriage? No one we can appeal to? What about divorce?”

 

“No loopholes.” Jeonghan confirms, looking just as upset as Joshua is. Fuck, if one of the best fae lawyers in this country can’t find a loophole, he’s definitely fucked. His best friend bites his lip and reaches across the table to cradle one of his hands in his, rubbing a thumb across the back of his hand to offer some type of comfort. In less serious circumstances, he’d be marvelling at how good a friend Jeonghan can be when the situation calls for it. Right now though, there are more important things on his mind. “Unfortunately selkie unions are bound by old magick - you return the sealskin, boom lifelong union forms until one or both of you die.”

 

“And it doesn’t matter that I didn’t know it was his sealskin?” Joshua’s jaw clenches tight, the injustice of it all turning his tone bitter. “For God’s sakes, his son was the one who wore it to school and it wasn’t even _shaped_ like a sealskin! How was I meant to know they change shape with the wearer?”

 

Jeonghan snorts, a hard glint in his eyes, “Hate to break it to you but it doesn’t matter, the Court doesn’t give two shits - doesn’t even matter which season you appeal in. It’s bad but most fae just don’t care about selkie matters: no one cares enough to reform stuff like this because they don’t contribute much to court given they’re not in human form most of the time.” He pinches the bridge of his nose in irritation. “It’s a gaping hole in the law but it means that as long as you did the physical act of returning the skin, there’s no scope for reversal.”

 

“Great.” Joshua bites out, viciously draining the last of his smoothie. His newly received wedding ring winks in the light, lying innocently on the table’s surface between them and making Joshua’s stomach turn. “Just great. We really have no way out?”

 

“Well…” Jeonghan takes another bite of his honey choux cream, chewing slowly. It’s a delay tactic and both of them know it. Joshua smiles in that way that doesn’t meet his eyes, the one that unnerves people though they may not know why, and sends a pointed warning kick Jeonghan’s way.

 

“ _Jeonghan_.”

 

Jeonghan winces when Joshua’s foot makes contact but insists on finishing his painstakingly slow bites. “Fine, there’s no _safe_ way out.” Jeonghan corrects himself reluctantly, bringing his pastry up to his mouth to lick more cream out.

 

“Stop that,” Joshua snaps crossly, “you _know_ there’s an incubus watching you from the counter right now. And what do you mean by no ‘safe’ way?”

 

“I mean,” Jeonghan smacks his lips obnoxiously, “even if you wanted to try this, I wouldn’t let you.” He raises his eyes to meet Joshua’s, solemn for once in a blue moon. “You’d have to persuade the Unseelie court. And who knows what price they’ll name”

 

“Oh fuck,” Joshua blanches, the thought of that more terrifying than having to explain to his mother why his marital status has legally changed, “nope, okay. Out of the question.”

 

“Good,” Jeonghan sighs, polishing off his choux and licking his fingers, “at least I raised you well. Even if you’re getting married to a stranger.”

 

“We didn’t really have a choice in the matter,” Joshua rolls his eyes at the idea of Jeonghan ‘raising’ him, “it’s kind of a ‘your son got us into this mess because he wants me as a dad and now we have to cope’ situation which, although flattering, is not how I wanted to get people off my back about my love life.”

 

“It _is_ a perk though.” Jeonghan shrugs, impervious to Joshua’s look of disbelief. “I’m just saying! Look on the bright side: at least your husband’s hot. Plus he seems sweet. ”

 

“He,” Joshua hesitates, wanting to refute Jeonghan’s point but at the same time, not having the heart to. Seungcheol has been… well, yeah he’s been a total sweetheart so far. He hasn’t tried to be pushy or insist that Joshua come live with him and Seungkwan or god forbid, that they consummate the marriage or whatever the selkie version of that is. He even told Joshua that he’d understand if Joshua didn’t want to wear the ring, though pressing it into his hand earnestly and telling him to keep it anyways and _just_ _here call me on this number if you wanna discuss more, whenever you’re ready_. For all Seungcheol knows, Joshua could go pawn it off somewhere and purchase a new guitar with that money, “he is sweet. Kind of naive but that might just be from getting used to the human realm again.”

 

“Are you going to try and make it work then?” Jeonghan probes, reaching out to toy with the ring, idly rolling it between his index and thumb. “Since he’s so _sweet_.”

 

“I…” Joshua looks to the side, conflicted. The steady drip of coffee through the pour-over display on the counter does nothing to stabilise his mind. “I don’t know. He’s nice but on principle, I’m not ready to jump into a romance that’s been forced upon me.” He runs a hand through his hair, a flush high on his cheekbones as he works himself up into a vexed state. “Nor am I ready to be a _parent_ , jeez, that’s a whole other can of worms plus there’s bound to be some sort of ethical issue if Seungkwan remains in my class and - “

 

“Okay, okay, chill.” Jeonghan leans over the table and rubs his shoulder comfortingly, motioning for him to take deep breaths in and out. He waits for Joshua to calm down, flagging down a waitress to order a slice of cake for them to split in the meantime, and by the time the red velvet slice arrives, Joshua feels like he can carry on a conversation without his head busting.

 

“What if - and just, what if - you just try things out with him.” He’s quick to shut down Joshua’s objections, slapping the back of his hand lightly. “Listen; it doesn’t have to be romantic. You said his son - Seungkwan right? - wanted you in his family because his dad is kind of a parenting failure, right?”

 

“Yeah?” Joshua shrugs, picking at the cake with his tiny fork, “That was the gist of it I think.”

 

“Okay, so easy fix.” Jeonghan scrapes the icing - just the icing - off with his fork with a self-satisfied smirk on his face, “Be friends with the guy.”

 

“Friends?” Joshua echoes dubiously.

 

“Yeah,” Jeonghan doesn’t sound like he’s joking, quirking an eyebrow like he doesn’t get why Joshua would be skeptical of any of his ideas, as if Joshua doesn’t keep a whole mental list of reasons in the reserves of his mind, “just treat this like you’re doing the guy a favour: he doesn’t know how to parent, you basically parent for a living. What’s so hard about going over a couple of times, teaching him how to make basic spaghetti or something, how to better bond with his son, yada yada yada.”

 

He breaks off and peers at Joshua’s contemplative face, apparently satisfied with what he sees, because he falls back into his chair contentedly. “You’re considering it, I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist.” He snorts, tone teasing. “It’s like your good samaritan senses are tingling.

 

“Just a platonic marriage.” Joshua mumbles to himself, purposefully ignoring Jeonghan. He doesn’t like to give Jeonghan any recognition if he can help it - once someone affirms one of his suggestions, Jeonghan likes to run wild and apply it to everything else he’s ever proposed in the entire course of his life. It’s difficult to resist the pull of this solution though, hating how it vaguely resembles the shape of a good idea.

 

“Yeah sure, platonic marriage. And once you’ve done your whole life guru thing, they won’t need you as much anymore so if worse comes to worse and you can’t stand the guy, you can just part ways and go back to your whole boring apartment and boring job and equally boring love life.” Jeonghan suggests in a completely reasonable voice, holding the ring up to his eye and looking at Joshua’s face through it like it’s a telescope lens. “I mean, will you ever be able to legally marry anyone else unless one of you dies? Nope! But there’s nothing saying you can’t have a few flings here and there, so it’s not all bad.”

 

Joshua grits his teeth and stabs the cake, passive-aggressively carving out a large piece for himself.

 

Jeonghan barks out a laugh, pointing an accusing finger and a self-satisfied grin spreads across his face. “You like my idea!” He crows victoriously, slamming the table in a mark of triumph. “Platonic husband of the year, Hong Joshua, here he comes!”

 

“Shut up.” Joshua says flatly and makes Jeonghan foot the bill just because he can.

 

//

 

“So he doesn’t call you ‘dad’?” Joshua asks curiously, peeping over Seungcheol’s shoulder as the other man minces garlic clumsily. He’d been dying to ask ever since he started coming over a few days after school, fetching Seungkwan from his new kindergarten and then helping Seungcheol prepare dinner for all of them. Seungkwan’s a little bit impossible to shut up on the ride home, buckled securely into Joshua’s passenger seat and rattling off complaints about what ‘Seungcheol’ has done this time.

 

“I don’t think he sees me as his dad yet,” Seungcheol shrugs easily, sweeping the garlic into a small bowl. He’s gotten better at the prep side of things ever since they started these mini lessons, adding _doenjjang jjigae_ and fried rice to his repertoire amongst other basic meals Joshua’d picked up from his mother whilst growing up. Today they’re making Joshua’s best recipe for tomato pasta, something he’s personally excited for, “and that’s okay, I’m not going to pressure him.”

 

Seungcheol slides the bowl of garlic across the counter to him and gives Joshua a warm smile, eyes crinkling up with the force of it, “I wasn’t really around when he was growing up - he only came into my care when his mother passed away earlier this year.”

 

“Oh,” Joshua stops wrangling with the can opener, unsure what the proper protocol is in response to the news, “my condolences. It must’ve been hard for you and Seungkwan.”

 

“Oh it was harder on Seungkwan than me,” Seungcheol shakes his head firmly, putting down the knife seriously, “she was the one who raised him mainly - I came around for Chuseok and other holidays but that was about it.”

 

“I see...” Joshua wants to keep the judgment out of his tone, he really does, but being in such close vicinity to kids as a profession makes him fiercely protective of them. It doesn’t sit well with him to think that kids can only rely on their parents to be on their side because well - what if they’re not? “Were you working elsewhere?”

 

“Uh,” Seungcheol frowns, brow dipping low, “...no. It’s a little difficult to explain - “

 

“It’s alright, you don’t have to - “

 

“No, it’s okay.” Seungcheol hums, inching past Joshua to reach into a lower cupboard for a large pot. “I want to be honest with you, Joshua-ssi. I know the circumstances weren’t ideal, especially since you’re human and you probably want all of those,” Seungcheol scrunches up his face in recall, “flowers? Kissing under the rain? An evil stepmother? But - “

 _What_ ? Joshua chokes on his giggles, nearly cutting his damn finger off with the can opener, “An _evil stepmother_? What kind of dramas has Seungkwan been making you watch?”

 

Seungcheol looks at him, wide-eyed and lost, “Do - do humans not want those? So their courtiers can flip them off or reject their payouts and prove their love?”

 

“Only in makjang dramas,” Joshua snorts in derision, walking over to Seungcheol and taking the pot from him, setting it under the tap, “As for normal humans… I don’t know, everyone’s a bit different, but I suppose mutual trust is pretty common. And respect.”

 

“Oh,” Seungcheol says thoughtfully, “we have that in common then.”

 

Joshua laughs quietly to himself. It’s sort of weird, remembering that they’re technically in an interspecies relationship, like some frontpage models for a diversity pamphlet because Seungcheol, for all his naivety to the human realm, acts more human than some actual humans. It’s a little sad. He shuts off the tap when the pot’s full enough, lifting it out of the sink with a grunt. Seungcheol makes a noise and hip checks him to the side, displacing him so he can do the heavy lifting instead.

 

“Where does this go?” He holds up the pot like it doesn’t weigh a fuckton, jeez what’s that pot made of? “On the stove?”

 

“Yeah.” Joshua says, brushing aside the faint irritation at Seungcheol just swooping in to help him out like he’s Superman or something. If it means he doesn’t have to strain himself, he shouldn’t be complaining, a small voice that sounds annoyingly like Jeonghan sing-songs in his mind. “Can you turn it on? Highest setting - we need the water to start boiling.”

 

Seungcheol follows instructions obediently, twisting the knob and waiting by the stove until Joshua’s back from his quest for salt and the pasta packet.

 

“Throw in a handful of salt into the water when it boils,” Joshua hands the container off into Seungcheol’s hands, working on ripping open the penne pasta packet, “you’re not meant to salt the pasta after you pour the sauce on so this is the only point you can season it.”

 

“Okay.” Seungcheol accepts his words easily and proceeds to watch the pot like a hawk as bubbles begin breaking the surface. When he speaks again, his voice is low, assumedly keeping it down for Seungkwan’s sake in the living room over. “Thank you again, by the way, Joshua-ssi. For not hating Seungkwan.”

 

“I don’t think I could ever hate Seungkwan,” Joshua scrunches up his nose, messing around with a piece of dried pasta, “he’s a good kid who means well, I know that, even if he did sort of…” He trails off, looking between the two of them with a shrug.

 

“The everlasting union thing?”

 

“The everlasting union thing.” Joshua confirms, tossing the pasta piece up and down in his hand, “But it’s okay - I think I’m adjusting to it. I could’ve done worse than you.”

 

Seungcheol looks at him, confused and Joshua just motions to his entire body with his hand. Self-explanatory, he would’ve thought. “You know, you’re attractive.”

 

Seungcheol makes a high pitched noise and nearly walks into the counter, flustered.

 

“What?” Joshua teases, amused, “You didn’t know?” He wasn’t intending on showing his playful side so soon but with these reactions, Seungcheol makes it easy.

 

“W-well!” Seungcheol does some flailing around with his hand, very closely avoiding dunking one into the pot of water, “Yes? It comes with the whole selkie thing, I guess.”

 

“Lucky me then,” Joshua says cheerfully and weighs up toying with him a little more, “hey Seungcheol-ssi, catch this.” He makes sure Seungcheol can see the piece of pasta in his hand and readies - three, two, one. The piece flies through the air in a perfect arc and Seungcheol leans back, catching it perfectly in his mouth.

 

He tilts his chin up at Joshua smugly, teeth crunching through the thing - “Caught it!” - before he makes a disgusted confused expression, looking at Joshua with miserable eyes of the betrayed.

 

“Oh yeah,” Joshua fakes a face of realisation, exaggerated and entirely insincere, “I forgot to tell you uncooked pasta is kinda gross.”

 

Seungcheol scoffs, crunching through the uncooked pasta churlishly, narrowing his eyes at Joshua like he’s mad though he doesn’t look like he could hurt a fly.

 

“I can’t believe Seungkwan said you were nice,” he laments, “he was always all _Hong-ssaem did this_ and _Hong-ssaem did that_ everytime he came home from kindergarten. Wait until he learns you’re just a big meanie.”

 

“I’m a teacher,” Joshua says shamelessly, “I’m teaching you new things - like that uncooked pasta is gross! Plus you look so _adorable_ when you’re kind of mad,” he giggles at Seungcheol’s offended face, bearing too much resemblance to Seungkwan’s puffed out cheeks when the boy is irritated, “Like father, like son.”

 

“...yeah.” Seungcheol relents after a second, dropping his outraged expression at the mention of Seungkwan for a soppy one, “He’s cute, isn’t he. His mother raised him well.” He looks down into the bubbling water, evidently troubled. “Though she shouldn’t have had to.”

 

“What do you mean?” Joshua asks carefully, sensitive to the change in atmosphere. He keeps his tone as neutral as he can manage as he navigates around the kitchen, in search for the skillet he left somewhere earlier.

 

Seungcheol exhales again and adds in another pinch of salt, pursing his lips as he watches the grains disappear into the bubbles, “I mean I’m part of the reason he had to grow up like that, without me in the picture. We selkies… the sea calls to us when we’re away from it, always. It’s harder to resist when you’re young and at that time,” he laughs humorously, “I was young. Seungkwan’s mother - she didn’t actually mean to summon me when she did, you know? She was collecting shells and pricked herself accidentally so - ”

 

“Seven drops of blood.”

 

“Exactly.” Seungcheol says, eyes swimming with his memories. Like an automaton, he adds another pinch of salt and oh, Joshua doesn’t want to interrupt him but it’s probably time to take the container away, “It turned out well though, funnily enough. Seungkwan happened and we were happy but then,” he pauses, shaking his head fondly as he reaches into the white container again, “she always knew me better than I did myself.”

 

“What happened?” Joshua gently nudges his way in, sliding the salt container away and dumping in the pasta all at once. “Keep talking but could you get the lid for me?”

 

“The call of the sea,” Seungcheol rakes a hand through his messy dark hair, bending down to retrieve the lid and pop it on the top of the pot, “it howled in my blood, kept me up all those nights that Seungkwan didn’t.” He sinks backwards on the counter, propping himself up with his forearms, “So I snuck out one night - I just wanted to dip my toes in the sea, we were surrounded by it on Jeju, y’know - but then she was there. Waiting at the door for me with my skin.”

 

“She gave it back to you?” Joshua infers, unable to keep the shock out of his voice, nearly dropping the skillet in his hand.

 

“Yeah, she gave it back to me,” Seungcheol nods, scooting aside so Joshua can turn on the stove, looking down at the floor, “said some spiel about how I needed to go back to the sea because I was miserable there with them and, well.” He purses his lips. “She was never wrong.”

 

“So when she passed this year - “

 

“The Court sought me out and told me the news so I came back as fast as possible.” Seungcheol watches detachedly as Joshua heats the skillet, adding oil and then garlic from earlier. “It happened really fast - Seungkwan just came with me and we moved to Seoul together and I realised just how much of his life I really missed out on.”

 

Seungcheol looks away for a second and comes back with earnest eyes, “I just want to make it up to him, really,” he say, firm but quiet, words nearly covered up by the sizzle of the pan, “and I wanted to be honest with you too, Joshua-ssi. So I’ll understand if you judge or blame me for - “

 

“You can call me Joshua. Or Shua.” Joshua gazes back at him, mouth set in a tight line that relaxes slightly as he takes in Seungcheol’s sincerity. He’s seen a lot of parents who couldn’t give two shits about their kids - the ones that practically ask nannies to raise their children in their place, the ones that force their kids to relive age-old dreams they themselves couldn’t attain, the ones that throw money at their kids to make up for long absences and sparser praises.

 

Seungcheol isn’t any of them.

 

“I don’t judge or blame you,” Joshua supplies in the little silence that occasions after his previous words, “seriously, Seungcheol-ssi. From the way you talk about him, the way you look at him, I can tell you love him very much, no matter how long you were gone. And now you’re here when you could’ve abandoned him instead, going along with the whole proposal idea because he wanted it, learning to cook different things because he wants it.” Joshua hums, shaking the skillet and pouring in the canned tomatoes.

 

He hands off the skillet to Seungcheol, instructing him to shake it and inspects the pasta, waving away the steam that billows out when he lifts the lid.

 

“Remember what we were talking about earlier, Seungcheol-ssi,” he says, draining the pasta in the sink as best he can without a strainer, “mutual trust and respect? They’re not just for romantic relationships - they’re for every relationship. And I think you and Seungkwan are on your way there - ” He turns around with the pasta and nearly collides into Seungcheol’s solid body, yelping when the skillet nearly nudges against his hip.

 

“Oops sorry,” Seungcheol stutters, moving back a little so there’s enough space to hold the skillet between them, ready to receive the pasta. He smiles apologetically, head tilted boyishly to the side, and oh. This isn’t good.

 

“You um,” Joshua chokes out breathlessly, trying to ignore the brief flutter in his chest he hasn’t felt in awhile, “just need a little bit of time.”

 

//

 

“Ssaem! Ssaem’s here!”

 

“Hi Kwannie - _oof_ ,” Joshua huffs when a small blur barrels into him, nearly bowling him and his bag full of goodies over. Well okay, his bag full of chips and a bottle of wine. What? Sometimes he just wants a break from cooking, “how are you doing?”

 

“I’m good!” Seungkwan announces proudly like he wants everyone sitting along the banks of the Han River to know the state of his well being. He hangs off of Joshua’s leg as Joshua tries to waddle forwards to where he can see Seungcheol has laid out a picnic mat. “Even better now that ssaem’s here!”

 

Looks like Seungkwan’s been learning from Seungcheol, Joshua realises, eye twitching involuntarily. There’s only one person he could’ve learnt such cheesy lines from.

 

“You know Kwannie, you don’t have to call me ssaem now that I’m not your teacher anymore - “

 

“Having some trouble there, Shua?” The perpetrator in question sticks his head out from behind the tree he’s been leaning in, way too delighted to be watching Joshua struggling with _his_ son.

 

“ _Nope_ ,” Joshua refuses to let him win. He’s the one doing the bullying around here, goddamnit, “no trouble at all.”

 

He stops his futile struggle to walk like a normal person and stoops down to Seungkwan’s eye level, giving him his sweetest smile, “Hey Kwannie, I’m so happy that you missed me but do you think you could let go of my leg for a second hmm? Just a second? We can hold hands instead.”

 

“Nnng,” Seungkwan pouts, holding on tighter, “don’t wanna.”

 

“Ah,” Joshua’s plastered smile falters for a flicker, “no? What do you want then? Ice cream? If you let go of me, I’ll get Seungcheol to buy you the biggest, most expensive ice cream in the convenience store, how’s that?”

 

“Ice cream _and_ jelly?”

 

“Sure,” Joshua says indulgently, cupping Seungkwan’s squishy cheek. It won’t be his money anyways. “Ice cream and jelly. You can’t tell Seungcheol though, okay? Otherwise the deal’s off.”

 

Seungkwan nods furiously, making a motion like he’s zipping his lips up. Joshua ruffles his hair, satisfied smugness filling his chest, “Good boy. Let’s go walk back to Cheol, okay?”

 

He holds his hand out to Seungkwan and the child takes it, humming a little tune all the way back and swinging their joined hands as they go.

 

‘How did you get him to do that?” Seungcheol’s hand darts up to tug at his sleeve, half jealous half awed. “He doesn’t let anyone go that easily - I spent like an _hour_ peeling him away from Hansol’s side when they had a playdate last.”

 

“Magic.” Joshua jazz hands, cackling to himself when Seungcheol devolves into whining, shoving his shoulder childishly.

 

Joshua pretends to go down hard, tumbling so he’s parallel to the ground, wailing soulfully about his shoulder. A couple walking past on the jogging track send Seungcheol dubious looks, whispering amongst themselves before speeding off.

 

“Stop it,” Seungcheol whines, pulling at Joshua’s ankle, “you _know_ I didn’t push you that hard. C’mon, people are looking at me weird, _c’mon_.”

 

“I’ll stop if you hand over your wallet,” Joshua hisses sweetly before going back to crying about his shoulder and how his husband is _such a bully_ _setting such a bad example for their child_ _and -_

 

Seungcheol makes a defeated noise, digging his wallet out from his back pocket anf burying his head in his hands at the same time. Joshua catches it easily, one-handed, and grins conspiratorially at Seungkwan.

 

“Thanks _Cheollie,”_ Joshua coos, saccharine sweet, thumbing through the notes in there and plucking out enough to cover a trip to the convenience store. He fans himself with the bills, chucking the wallet back, “best husband ever.”

 

“Whatever,” Seungcheol groans, reclining his head backwards to lean it against the tree, “go enjoy your dirty money.”

 

“We will.” Joshua sing-songs and extends a hand to Seungkwan so he can skip alongside as well. “C’mon Kwannie, let’s go.”

 

Seungkwan takes his hand in his and they set off up the grass towards the small convenience store nestled nearer to the carpark. He lets Seungkwan talk his ear off as they wander inside the air conditioned space, the clerk paying them no mind as Seungkwan spends ten minutes pondering the value of jelly worms versus gummy bears and then another five making Joshua hoist him up to look into the freezer section to choose an icecream too.

 

“Should we get something for your dad too?” Joshua asks Seungkwan absently, pausing in front of the ramyun taps outside the store. “It is _his_ money.”

 

Seungkwan takes a lick of his vanilla cone and nods in the affirmative so they troop back in. Joshua squints at the ramyun shelves and scans it thoughtfully, “What does your dad like, Kwannie?”

 

“He can’t eat spicy things.” Seungkwan mumbles inbetween licks, uninterested in the world outside his icecream.

 

“Great,” Joshua perks up and turns to the clerk at the counter, smiling sunnily, “excuse me, what’s the spiciest ramyun you’ve got?”

 

It almost makes Joshua feel bad when they get back to the picnic blanket and Seungcheol’s face lights up like it’s his Christmas and his birthday come at once when Joshua presents one ramyun serving to him, reserving the other for himself.

 

“At least you used my money for something good,” Seungcheol smacks his lips enthusiastically, breaking his chopsticks, “I’ll eat it well!”

 

He takes a big bite and looks at Joshua with cheeks puffed full, chewing happily, “Aren’t you going to have some too - “ He breaks off, looking troubled, head casting left and right for some water.

 

Seungkwan scoots away from him, curling protective fingers around his cone whilst Joshua snaps his chopsticks peacefully, bowing his head as he mutters a quiet “I”ll eat it well” to himself.

 

“J-Joshua,” Seungcheol pants, eyes scrunched up in pain and fanning his tongue desperately. To Joshua’s mild amusement, there’s sweat forming at his temple, adding a nice sheen to his reddening face, “water - “

 

“Yes the water does look rather nice today.” Joshua says amiably, slurping up some of the soup and staring out at the dots of far-off kayakers in the river against the late-afternoon sun. “Thanks for suggesting we come out here today, Cheol-ah.”

 

‘I’m _dying_ ,” Seungcheol rasps, pinching the neck of his shirt and flapping it to induce wind to cool him down, “what do humans call this? Mariticide?”

 

“I don’t know what that word means.” Joshua tells him seriously, taking another bite of his noodles. Next to him, Seungkwan’s worming himself into Joshua’s side, hands and mouth sticky with icecream but shaking with laughter at his dad’s desperation

 

“Seungkwan-ah,” Seungcheol looks like he might cry any second; either that or his head might explode, “ _please_.”

 

“There’s water there, dad.” Seungkwan pokes his head out under Joshua’s arm, giggling, and points towards the river.

 

Seungcheol swipes his arm across his nose, sinuses now flowing freely and sniffs, eyes watery and red. “Once I get back,” he warns, standing up and swiftly divesting himself of his shirt and shorts, much to Joshua’s and Seungkwan’s shared alarm, “I’m going to take revenge on you so bad.” The force of the threat is somewhat lost by the way his tongue hangs out the entire time but Seungcheol’s intent is made clear when he swipes the pelt he was sitting on and drapes it over his shoulders. The grey cover seems to shift imperceptibly under their eyes, shapelessness giving way to a weather-impractical overcoat, as Seungcheol races for the water and plunges right in.

 

“What the - “ Joshua nearly upends his ramyun on the grass, startling to his feet. Seungkwan isn’t as careful, eyes going wide as he races down to the shore edge with Joshua following in close pursuit.

 

“Dad!” Seungkwan hollers, cupping both hands around his mouth to broadcast his voice. “Dad! Where are you!”

 

“Seungcheol!” Joshua yells out, more reserved but still worried. “Cheol-ah! Where are you?”

 

The river stays silent, not a bubble to be seen.

 

“Dad!” Seungkwan shouts, darting further up the shoreline and then down. He sounds keyed up, verging on the hysterical. “Dad! Come back!”

 

“Come back, Cheollie!” Joshua echoes, not caring now that the ahjussi cycling past just gave them a dirty look or that his ramyun is quickly cooling. “You can’t just leave like that, who knows what’s in the river and - “

 

“Don’t leave me again Dad!” Seungkwan hollers, his small frame starting to shake in the light of the setting sun. “Please don’t leave me  - “

 

The next second, something powerful leaves the water and sends a spray of water arching towards the two of them on the shoreline, drenching them all the way down to their socks.

 

Joshua looks up through the matted hair covering his eyes, mouth agape, at the figure doing graceful leaps above the water. He could swear it looks smug. Seungkwan shrieks and it takes Joshua a second to realise it’s not one of panic or distress but excitement.

 

He’s too late to stop Seungkwan as the child skids down the muddy bank to stand ankle-deep in the murky river, making grabby hands at the air. “Dad! Come here!”

 

The figure - a seal. Seungcheol - swims as close as it can get before the water gets too shallow but it’s still too deep for Seungkwan to wade in. Resigning himself to getting dirty today, Joshua shoots one last look behind him at their abandoned picnic and shrugs, manic glee decorating his expression as he follows after Seungkwan and scoops him up, letting him ride on his shoulders as they step out farther into the river.

 

They must look insane to any passerby but Joshua hasn’t had this much fun for a long time now.

 

“Hi.” He tells the seal that’s nudging at Joshua’s hand with Seungcheol’s eyes. “That was one way to get water, I guess. Gave us quite a scare though.”

 

Seungcheol looks back at him, deadpan like he’s saying _whose fault was it that I needed water in the first place_.

 

“To be fair,” Joshua shrugs, hesitantly extending a hand to pat Seungcheol’s head, “I didn’t think you were _that_ weak.”

 

Seungcheol sends him the filthiest glare he can muster in this form, butting his hand hard. Joshua just laughs at him, stroking the tips of his fingers across Seungcheol’s smooth skin.

 

“So this is what you were like for five years huh,” he muses, stooping down to let Seungkwan touch too. The boy’s pats are a little rough and clumsy but Seungcheol takes it well, patiently waiting for Seungkwan to touch his fill, “you’re pretty like this too.”

 

He clamps his mouth shut immediately after his last comment, looking away quickly. That… He didn’t mean to say that. Didn’t even know he’d been thinking that. Fuck.

 

“I wish I coulda patted you like this before.” Seungkwan pokes Seungcheol’s nose and delights when Seungcheol makes a weird stuffy noise, the seal equivalent of a sneeze. Joshua winces when he sees Seungcheol flinch, tail flicking upwards, breaking the surface of the water. He’s thinking about stepping in when Seungkwan continues, oblivious. “But it’s okay - now I get to pat you as much as I want! Because you came back!”

 

Seungcheol’s expression is, not surprisingly, difficult to read in this form but his eyes have always been expressive. They shine right now, black and wet, with something that resembles relief and Joshua doesn’t know why, but he feels something lift off his shoulders too.

 

And then Seungkwan bounces up and down on his shoulders,  making Joshua’s back ache, and asks whether they can put Seungcheol into the bathtub back at home so Seungkwan can pat him whenever he wants and well - moment’s broken.

 

//

 

Seungcheol is nice. It’s basically a universal fact, one of the first things Joshua noticed about him. Seungcheol is nice and the world is round. He’s nice and a little naive from being out of practice with the human world and a genuinely good person overall which means he’s basically perfect as Joshua’s new favourite target for teasing, especially since he made the mistake of letting Joshua treat him like a friend even though he’s lived on this earth probably twice as long as he has.

 

“It’ll be more comfortable,” Seungcheol had said, oh so guilessly when they were setting down ground rules for the first time, “since we’re married and all.”

 

Now three months down the track and he’s practically begging for Joshua to call him hyung at every chance he gets.

 

“No chance.” Joshua says cheerfully, elbowing him in the ribs so that Seungcheol’s cart skids off the side of the road and plunges into the bottomless canyon below. “Eat my dust Cheollie - Wonwoo-yah, you’re next!”

 

“Fuck,” Seungcheol makes to chuck his controller away in despair as Yoshi gets resurrected onscreen, dropped onto the track in tenth place, a far cry from his previous placing of second, “why do you like doing this to me in front of all your friends?”

 

“Because it’s funny?” Jeonghan offers from his horizontal position on the couch, flicking a chip at him so it thwacks Seungcheol on the head.

 

“Just a little.” Wonwoo adds carelessly, making Princess Daisy careen away from Joshua’s Princess Peach trying to knock her into the cave walls. “Sorry hyung.”

 

“That means he’s not sorry,” Soonyoung stage-whispers, head on Wonwoo’s bony shoulder despite Wonwoo’s half-hearted attempts to dislodge him, “he’s very bad at expressing how he really feels.”

 

“I hate you, get off me.”

 

“Case in point.” Soonyoung says smugly and promptly wraps all his limbs around Wonwoo, holding on to him like a koala does a tree

 

“ _Yah_!” Wonwoo groans, angling his head to the side so he can track his screen better. “If I lose this round this is all your fault and you owe me a month’s worth of - “

 

“No foreplay in the living room.” Jihoon grunts and shotputs a decorative cushion right into Wonwoo’s face.

 

“ _Motherfucking - “_

 

“And it’s a win for the Peach-ster!” Joshua whoops, pumping his fist in the air and offering a fist bump to Jihoon. Wonwoo lets out a garbled yell to the side and flings his controller somewhere into the couch cushions, grabbing a pillow and reaching over to smack Jihoon’s head with it.

 

“I was going to say a month of taking out the trash,” Wonwoo grumps, slumping down miserably as he pushes his glasses up his nose, uncaring even as Jihoon smacks him back once his Baby Mario successfully crosses the line in fifth place, “you made me lose for nothing!”

 

“Are you sure it wasn’t anything dirtier than that?” Junhui comments idly from where he’s tucked against the side of the couch with his phone, in the exact same position he was when Joshua and Seungcheol entered Soonyoung and Wonwoo’s place. “Because that month of ‘favours’ could totally be transferable to me.”

 

“Shut up.” Jihoon reaches up from where he’s positioned on the floor to poke at Junhui’s side. Junhui catches it though and intercepts, twisting his wrist and suddenly he’s holding Jihoon’s hand instead.

 

“The only thing dirtier than trash is Wonwoo’s desk.” Soonyoung snipes, giving Wonwoo a sullen look from the corner of his eye. “I bet you there’s mold growing in-between the keys of his keyboard as we speak.”

 

“It’s not _that_ bad - “

 

“Your ramyun bowl tower is literally going to topple over any day!”

 

“Are they always like this?” Seungcheol leans over to Joshua to whisper, frowning at the screen as Daisy shakes her head in despair as she crosses the line at the very back of the pack.

 

“Almost always.” Joshua assures him, patting his cheek condescendingly. He’s about to launch into a poorly disguised rant about how he always happens to be in hearing vicinity when the two decide to have make up sex when Jeonghan’s voice cuts through everyone’s individual conversations.

 

“Listen up everyone, let’s give a hand to seal boy for coming in last place!”

 

Seungcheol sinks down, covering his face to everyone else but Joshua, despair prominent, “When is it too early to tell someone you’ve only known for an hour to fuck off?”

 

“Never too early!” Even if Joshua isn’t looking at Jeonghan’s face, he can still hear the cat-got-the-cream smirk in his tone. “For example: hey Seungcheol, I’ve only known you for an hour but fuck off!”

 

Seungcheol splutters, looking to Joshua for some assistance but well, Jeonghan isn’t his best friend for no reason. They’re the pot and kettle together, the Ouran twins without the incestual overtones, birds of a feather flocking together.

 

Joshua shrugs and high fives Jeonghan, right in front of Seungcheol’s betrayed face.

 

“I’m not standing for this,” Seungcheol sulks, clambering to his feet, “I’m going to the bathroom. Is it in the same place as the bathroom at yours, Shua?”

 

“Yep,” Josh twinkles his fingers in Seungcheol’s direction as the other troops off down the corridor, “just don’t fall into the toilet again!”

 

“Yah!” Seungcheol whirls around, nearly falling flat on his face, red hot with embarrassment. “That never happened!”

 

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Joshua informs him sweetly, ignoring Jeonghan’s eyes boring their way into the back of his head, “sure, not everyone manages to topple in on their first try but - “

 

“I’m leaving!” Seungcheol blusters immediately, stomping his foot like Kwannie does when either of them are too busy to play with him and shuffling shamefaced into Soonyoung and Wonwoo’s bathroom.

 

There’s a collective pause as the entire group waits to hear the bathroom door slam behind Seungcheol before Jeonghan  nabs the remote calmly and flicks off the screen. Junhui, previously in the middle of making the most outrageous looking cart he can manage, puts down the controller with a sigh.

 

“ _So_ ,” Jeonghan prods Joshua’s prostate body with his foot and Joshua sighs, already feeling tired. It’s starting, “you and Seungcheol, huh?”

 

“What about?” Joshua drawls, reaching forwards to feel the coffee table for his phone. Coming up empty handed, he naturally turns to glare accusingly at Jeonghan. His best friend blinks at him wide-eyed, doing a very good job of pretending that Joshua’s phone isn’t secreted away in one of his pockets somewhere.

 

“Well,” Soonyoung inches towards him, pillow cushioning his knees, eyes alight with interest, “I like him. And also he’s hot. Like _hot_. How did you manage that Shua hyung?”

 

“Thanks for having so much faith in me, Soonyoung-ah.” Joshua says dryly, already wishing he could just desert Seungcheol to the wolves he calls his friends, “You might want to keep your thirst under control though - your boyfriend’s right next to you.”

 

“I like him too,” Wonwoo says stoically, not falling for the bait, “he likes gaming. If anything, I feel kind of bad for him though, being stuck with you, hyung. I don’t think he knew how much he was going to suffer when the both of you got married.”

 

“Yeah,” Jeonghan jumps in slyly, “you’re _teasing_ him, Shua.”

 

“So what,” Joshua rolls his eyes, pinching Jeonghan’s toe when it strays too close to him and revelling at the squeak it produces, “I tease everyone in this room.”

 

“Yeah,” Jihoon stares at him, unimpressed, “because we’re friends. It took you less than - what, half a year? A quarter? - to turn into the devil around him. That’s not common.”

 

“I used to think you were an actual angel,” Junhui adds, now apparently back to his regular programming as he tap taps away at his phone, “Jihoonie nearly went mad trying to tell me otherwise.”

 

“Exactly,” Jeonghan drawls out, jabbing his stupidly long toes into the nape of Joshua’s neck, “you _like_ him, Shua.”

 

“He’s easy to like,” Joshua protests, hands held up in front of himself defensively, “you’ve all just met him and Soonyoung’s already ready to jump his bones!”

 

Wonwoo makes a grumbly noise in his throat and shuffles closer to Soonyoung, hooking his chin on his boyfriend’s shoulder, eyes flashing defiantly. Soonyoung just laughs and pets his hair, cooing something into his ear that makes Wonwoo back down a little, settling for plastering himself against Soonyoung’s side.

 

They’re very in love and very disgusting and Joshua allows himself a split second of longing, wondering whether he could have something like that one day.

 

Jeonghan takes a deep breath and wiggles himself off the couch, snuggling next to Joshua on the floor. “Listen,” Jeonghan says, resting his head on Joshua’s shoulder, closing his eyes, “I know that I said you guys could just have a platonic marriage but consider. You like the guy, he’s getting along with us - which is already more than some of your exes could do, you already love his son... He’s sort of,” Jeonghan hums, “perfect for you.”

 

“Look Hannie, I - “

 

Seungcheol picks this time to stroll back into the room and Jihoon’s quick to distract him from the two of them on the floor, grilling Seungcheol intently about whether he’s been to a PC bang before and _what, you haven’t? Let’s go with Wonwoo some time, I’ll kick both of your asses at FIFA -_

 

Joshua shoots them a furtive look and sinks down further, keeping his voice low, “Jeonghan-ah, I get that he’s nice. It’s one of the reasons I’m still hanging around him even though he could probably parent without me by now. I’m just not - “

 

His voice dies off in his throat, realisation flashing across his mind that he doesn’t exactly have an excuse stored up somewhere.

 

“Don’t tell me you’re not interested,” Jeonghan cuts in sharply, “or attracted. You forget who I am, Shua. You might not see it but he’s been making you happier, even if there’s nothing happening between you two yet.”

 

“What do you mean happier?” Joshua averts his eyes, avoiding Jeonghan’s probing gaze as he looks longingly at the front door. “Nothing’s changed.”

 

“You seriously haven’t noticed?” Jeonghan scoffs, disbelieving. “How many things do you want me to list off: you’re not a honorary janitor at the preschool anymore now that you head over to his place all the time, you’ve gone _outside_ more than once in the last month with Selkie and Son, picked up cycling again - “

 

“That’s - “ Joshua splutters, struggling to assemble a snappy retort, “all that’s got nothing to do with him!”

 

“Uh huh,” Jeonghan gives him a funny little smile and turns around with as little head movement as he can manage, “hey Seungcheol, did you come over to Shua’s two weeks ago for something?”

 

“Jeonghan - “

 

“Two weeks ago… he was sick right?” Seungcheol thinks out loud, disturbingly oblivious to the way everyone else’s eyes immediately narrow in on Joshua’s resigned face, “so Kwannie and I made him soup and I came over to give it to him.”

 

“Wow,” Jeonghan announces loudly, looking pointedly at Joshua, “that’s so nice of you to take care of him, Seungcheol. _Normally_ ,” he bats away Joshua’s ineffectual attempts to push him off with ease, “he sends me miserable KaTalk messages every second he’s at work because he doesn’t know how to call in sick for anything.”

 

“Oh yeah!” Seungcheol waggles his finger at Joshua accusingly, “He was totally about to leave the house when I came over. Took me ages to wrestle him into bed.”

 

“Wrestle into bed huh?” Soonyoung giggles, suggestive leer on his face, making Seungcheol immediately realise the connotations behind his words and jump panickedly to his own defence.

 

“Doesn’t have anything to do with him, huh?” Jeonghan mocks Joshua’s earlier words, tone laced with smugness, “ _Sure_ it doesn’t.”

 

//

 

The first time he came over to the Choi-Boo household, there was a funny truth that seemed evident to him: love only seemed to go one way in this house. It was like, in one corner there’s Choi Seungcheol, hopeless (endearing) fool for his five year old’s demands but terribly bad at accommodating them. In the other corner, there’s Boo Seungkwan, still unused to living with his estranged father and barely tolerating Seungcheol’s apparent inability to do all the parental duties his recently deceased mother had been in charge of.

 

It’s been nice to see that balance change, Joshua thinks privately when he’s waiting for sleep to overcome him at night, and to be both partial cause of and witness to. On a cognitive level, he knows that Seungcheol knows this, as arrogant a perspective as it may seem. Yet when Seungcheol actually remarks on it, out loud, it sends him into more of a fluster than he expected instead of a subtle preening at his efforts.

 

“You’re good for him.” Seungcheol says in hushed tones over the water splashing over the dishes and Spongebob’s incessant laughter coming from the living room. Joshua makes a dismissive sound, glowing hot under the recognition where he’d usually accept it with a cheeky _thanks, took you long enough to realise_. He occupies himself with drying the utensils in a sudden burst of silence instead, causing Seungcheol to shuffle into his personal space and repeat himself like Joshua hadn’t heard.

 

“I mean it, you’ve been really good for us, Shua.”

 

“I just taught you how to feed your kid something other than fish,” Joshua jokes, punching Seungcheol playfully in the shoulder, “we can’t all turn into seals on our off days.”

 

The big baby that he is, Seungcheol stumbles backwards in a melodramatic show of pain, whining to the high heavens about how _mean_ Joshua is and how he takes everything nice back he should have never let Joshua into his house in the first place. That was apparently all that was needed to divert them, two grown-ass adults, to digress into a tickle-fight on the kitchen floor, only stopped when Seungkwan wandered in and stared at the sight.

 

“It’s not what it looks like!”

 

“What is it meant to look like?” Joshua mutters disbelievingly as they sheepishly brush themselves off under Seungkwan’s puzzled look. “He’s _five_ , Cheol.”

 

“Uh - “ Seungcheol makes a dazed fish face that shouldn’t be as endearing as it is. It only makes Joshua want to slap him fondly upside the head and then kiss him and well, something twinges emptily in his chest, only one of those is within the realm of possibility.

 

 _This is platonic,_ he reminds himself sternly, _strictly platonic. Everything’s pretend._

 

“Kwannie, I can explain! This is just a - “

 

“Tickle fight!” Seungkwan squeals, poker face lips turning up into an expression of manic glee as he drops his teddy on the ground and launches himself towards Joshua.

 

“ _Pervert_ ,” Joshua mouths accusingly over Seungkwan’s innocent head, shooting daggers at a sheepish Seungcheol, “ _I can’t believe you_.” He turns his attention back to Seungkwan whose small pudgy hands are scrabbling uselessly at his sides, “Tickle monster coming in!” He runs his fingers lightly up and down Seungkwan’s sides, prodding under his ribs and making the child kick and giggle in his hold.

 

“Let’s go to the living room, huh?” He offers as gently as he can, keeping his alarm under wraps once Seungkwan’s foot gets a little too close to his crotch. “Tickle monsters don’t do so well in the kitchen.” He eyes Seungcheol with a smirk, the adult equivalent of sticking out his tongue, “We can leave your dad to finish the dishes.”

 

“Yah! H-Hong Joshua!”

 

“Yay! Hong-ssaem, let’s go! Go, go, go, go, go!”

 

Seungcheol’s splutters are futile. Seungkwan’s already demanded a piggyback and then they’re halfway out the door. Joshua looks back once, just in time to catch Seungcheol’s expression as he watches them go. He catches it in a snapshot, less than a second long, but what he sees makes something sour in his chest.

 

Curse Seungcheol for being an open book.

 

Joshua could have dealt with something like envy, something like _wow I wish I could be as good with him as you are_. He hears that kind of thing all the time when he meets with parents, something he easily soothes with the assurance that parenting is difficult and I’m sure you’re doing your best, they’ll forget all about me by the time they hit puberty but you’ll be the ones they’re sending money to when you’re retired, I only have them for the easy times of the day it barely compares, no you’re not failures here have a tissue!

 

He might’ve even have been able to deal with variations of _I think you’re spending too much time with my darling son let’s not forget who the real father is here_ but kinder because it’s _Seungcheol_. If that were the case, he’d have been happy - well, maybe not entirely - to visit less during the week, to retreat back to his now-unfamiliar schedule of returning home straight after work to stare at his ceiling and watch re-runs of Hell’s Kitchen and Bake Off in the silence of his apartment.

 

What he can’t deal with is the love in Seungcheol’s eyes, melting and drippy with goo, trained on Seungkwan, bouncing with glee on Joshua’s back. It’s normal, of course, for parents to love their children and it’s a heartwarming scene where he can get a glimpse of it. Juyeon running full-pelt into her mother’s arms at pick-up time, Yuto’s mother staring patiently at her son as he solemnly recites his entire day to her in both Korean and Japanese because it just can’t wait till the car ride, Hansol beaming gummily when his father lauds his latest doodle with exaggerated praise for what might have just been him sneezing whilst holding a crayon. What he can’t deal with is the niggling aching fear that Seungcheol’s love for Seungkwan might be the only reason for him keeping Joshua around.

 

He turns back quickly to gallop into the living room at Seungkwan’s insistent neighing noises and the weight of small fists beating on his back. He winces as Seungkwan accidentally yanks at a clump of hair near his ear but keeps a smile on his face just the same, glad to be out of Seungcheol’s vicinity.

 

Goodbye and good riddance to pruny fingers and these _feelings._

 

//

 

Except it turns out that feelings don’t fade away as easily as pruny fingers do. Not when there’s a Choi Seungcheol in the mix.

 

(Joshua’s not typically one to point fingers but amongst a newfound appreciation for vanilla icecream and impromptu living room karaoke, he’s been picking up a lot of bad habits from Seungkwan recently.)

 

“I’m telling you - it’s definitely a date.” Jeonghan insists, making a beeline for Joshua’s bed immediately when he steps into his bedroom.

 

“And _I’m_ telling you it’s not.” Joshua bristles, flicking through his array of dress shirts briskly. “You know I didn’t ask you to come over to give me wrong opinions.” He glares ineffectually at Jeonghan in the mirror’s reflection, his best friend completely ignoring him as he tucks himself under the covers and totally messes up Joshua’s strategic pillow arrangement. What a bastard. “If I wanted those, I would’ve just invited Soonyoung and Junhui instead.”

 

“Low blow.” Jeonghan snorts, getting out his phone and starting to scroll. “ _Someone’s_ not winning neighbour of the year.”

 

“ _Jeonghan_.” Joshua is this close to slamming his head against the back of his wardrobe. Fairly purposefully. Several times. Until he passes out and has a perfectly reasonable excuse not to have dinner with Seungcheol tonight. “Please. I need an outfit.”

 

Jeonghan, finally sensing Joshua’s distress, swiftly puts his phone aside and comes around to his. “You’re upset,” he observes softly, digging his thumbs into Joshua’s shoulders. Some of the tension bleeds out and Joshua can finally hear some of the non-hysterical thoughts bouncing around in his head, “but I know this isn’t about an outfit for tonight.”

 

Joshua stares blankly ahead, voice coming out subdued and quiet. “He doesn’t like me, Hannie.”

 

“That’s ridiculous,” Jeonghan says with utter conviction, “of course he does. Why else would he be having you around basically every day? Or keep bringing you boxed lunches at work? Or be taking you out to dinner tonight?”

 

“I mean in a romantic sense.” Joshua corrects him, sifting through his shirts again to pick out a simple reliable button-up he’s worn previously to blind dates before he gave up on them entirely. “He just does all of that because he thinks that’s what normal humans do - he doesn’t get the connotations behind it.”

 

“Shua,” Jeonghan’s tone dips in warning, “aren’t you underestimating his intelligence a little? Sure, the guy’s been a seal for like fifty years or whatever but he’s been living in the human realm for nearly eight months now - more than that if you count his previous relationship - definitely enough to discern romantic actions from platonic ones. He’s taking you out to dinner tonight because he _like_ likes you.”

 

“Or,” Joshua counters stubbornly, gritting his teeth, “he’s taking me out to dinner tonight because he wants to thank me for teaching him basic life skills and then he’s gonna tell me that he’s _oh so happy to have found a friend like you but I’ve decided that I can take it from here now so don’t bother coming around anymore_.” His fists clench and his hands still. He tries to ignore the sudden burn in his throat and ends up spitting out the rest of his words. “And then it’s going to be me, sitting in my stupid apartment by myself all over again, ad infinitum until I die.” His sniffles, wet and disgusting, trying to disguise the way his voice cracked embarrassingly.

 

Jeonghan is quick to swoop in, swiping the shirt from his grasp and chucking it onto the bed, wrapping Joshua up in a hug.

 

“Have I ever told you you’re really dumb?” Jeonghan mumbles in his ear, just holding him as Joshua tries not to rub at his watery tear ducts. “And also deserve to date better than the exes who just took advantage of you?”

 

“Trust me, I know.” Joshua scoffs, blinking away the moisture in his eyes. “They know too - remember when I got you to tie Dave’s hair to his headboard?”

 

“Ew yeah.” Jeonghan grimaces. “Not going to lie, his hair was almost too greasy for that.”

 

“Why do you think I asked you to do it?” Joshua snickers and gets a weak punch in the shoulder in return. Joshua slaps him back, harder, and Jeonghan mock growls at him, forcing them into a slap fight. It’s sort of weird since they’re still hugging but they’ve always excelled at weird.

 

It’s only when Joshua makes to get knees and crotches involved that they form a truce.

 

“Damnit Joshuaji,” Jeonghan chokes, nearly losing his fae equivalent of baby-making equipment when Joshua’s aim gets too good, “I hope Seungcheol knows he’s got a hard on for pure evil in a flesh suit.”

 

“Who?” Joshua looks around as innocently as he can, placing a splayed hand on his chest. “Me?”

 

“Yes you.” Jeonghan grumbles, shoving him playfully in the direction of his bed. “Now take a seat - if you’re practically possessed by Satan, I might as well make sure you dress like it.”

 

//

 

“Shua!”

 

Joshua casts a glance right and left when he takes a step out of the taxi, looking for the source of the voice. Off to the left, loitering under the restaurant’s signage, there’s someone raising a hand to catch his attention. The figure steps out into the light of the floating street lamps, revealing that it’s Seungcheol, hair gelled up high for a change and a red flower nestled in the buttonhole of his blazer.

 

He cleans up well, Joshua thinks, ignoring the sudden tightness in his chest.

 

“Seungcheol.” He jolts himself out of his stupor before a non-socially acceptable silence passes, meeting Seungcheol in a tight hug. He’s wrapped in warmth for a second that maybe lingers too long in his memory, before he steps back and takes the other man in, making a show of his incredulousness. “This is different.”

 

“Do you like it?” Seungcheol bounces up and down on the balls of his feet, small timid smile in direct contrast to the devastating width of his shoulders in that blazer. “Kwannie did my hair.”

 

“Kwannie did your hair?” Joshua can’t stop the amused giggles that spill from his lips, picturing a determined Seungkwan slicking his small hands up with gel like a gymnast reaching for chalk, reaching up to poke at the spikes. “What _can’t_ that boy do?”

 

“Okay, well maybe it was a joint effort between him and the babysitter,” Seungcheol amends sheepishly, “but Mingyu let him take most of the credit which is nice.” Seungcheol’s watch beeps as he says that, making the selkie look down at his watch, lips scrunched in a resting pout. Is that even a thing?

 

“Wait, I forgot how to look at messages on this thing.” Seungcheol frowns, tapping at the screen. He looks up at Joshua, lost, holding out his wrist. “Shua?”

 

“You’re such a big baby,” Joshua rolls his eyes but comes around to his side nonetheless, leaning into Seungcheol’s space to look at the device, “here. It’s fingerprint activated.”

 

He reaches across to grab Seungcheol’s spare hand and manipulates it to press Seungcheol’s index finger onto the monitor. The wrist device makes a clicking noise and the screen opens up, displaying three messages from Mingyu, Seungcheol’s university student neighbour, spaced closely together.

 

_your child is serving volleyballs at my head??_

_THIS IS KWNNIE MINGU HYUNG IS OK_

_i am not ok_

 

“I don’t know whether I should be laughing or not.” Seungcheol mumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose though the quirk of his lips tell a different story.

 

“Well do you want to go home and check on them?” Joshua tilts his head to make eye-contact with Seungcheol. Funnily enough, Seungcheol’s eyes were already on him, big and moony.

 

“Is it bad,” Seungcheol sighs lowly, exiting out of the messages with a rueful grin, “that I really don’t, right now? I mean, how often is it that I can take one Hong Joshua out to dinner?”

 

As often as you’d like, Joshua supplies in his head.

 

Instead he says, “Is this an offer to buy all my meals from here on out, Choi Seungcheol-ssi?” with a waggle of his eyebrows before breaking off into light laughter, needling Seungcheol in the ribs, “Joking, joking. If you want to reschedule - “

 

“No.” Seungcheol yelps, wrapping a hand around his wrist and preventing him from turning back to the main road to hail another cab. Joshua looks back quizzically. “No,” Seungcheol softens his tone, laced with hesitation, “I mean, I’m sure Mingyu will be just fine - he’s a were, he’ll survive. Plus, I think Seungkwannie would kill me if I came home early and I made dinner reservations and everything so...” He makes puppy eyes at Joshua and slides his grip from Joshua’s wrist to his hand, linking their fingers together and swinging their joined arms gently.

 

“Please stay with me?”

 

//

 

Dinner was nice. Stupidly nice. Nice enough to have Joshua pinching himself every few seconds to remind himself that it was definitely not a date.

 

(Between the flicking candle light and the table for two though, he half-wanted to pretend. Sinking into the fantasy would’ve been so easy - to accept the chair Seungcheol pulled out for him instead of ignoring the motion and skittering off to the other side of the table, to accept a bite from Seungcheol’s fork, to believe that Seungcheol had intertwined their fingers across the table because he wanted to and not because he thought it was a normal thing between friends.

 

But Joshua’s always been focused on the big picture: fall for the fantasy now, get your heart broken later. So he ignores the chair Seungcheol pulls out and skitters off to the other side of the table. Awkwardly declines the bite of pasta held out invitingly to him. Chants over and over to himself during a bathroom break that his heart isn’t fluttering, that his chest isn’t aching at all.)

 

But now dinner’s over and it seems the temptation of fantasy is too. They’re standing outside the restaurant, leaning against the brick as Joshua tries to thrust his share of the dinner into Seungcheol’s hands even as Seungcheol’s mood sours, transitioning from amusement to annoyance.

 

“It’s called ‘going dutch’,” Joshua explains for the billionth time, “it means we split the bill equally, Cheol. So can you just take my - “

 

“But I wanted to pay for you.” Seungcheol insists, also for the billionth time, batting Joshua’s money away. “Stop trying to give me money!”

 

“We shared dinner,” Joshua says exasperatedly, trying to slip the notes into Seungcheol’s front pocket, “so let’s share the bill. That restaurant was stupidly expensive, there’s no reason why you should pay for everything alone!”

 

Seungcheol’s face darkens at the reminder, arms coming up to cross over his chest. “It wasn’t _that_ expensive,” he complains childishly, “but seriously? Fifty thousand won pasta?” He scoffs incredulously, shaking his head so that his fringe, getting too long now, falls into his eyes. “I still like your tomato pasta the best.”

 

The ease with which Seungcheol lets the compliment fall from his lips makes it ring all the more sincere.

 

Joshua falters.

 

“I - “ He massages his temples with his free hand, resisting the urge to stuff the bills in his other hand down Seungcheol’s throat. What a stupid waste of a handsome face. “I don’t get it - why did you insist on paying for us? If this is about my salary again - “

 

“It’s not _about_ your salary.” Seungcheol straightens up, eyes flashing indignantly. His hands fly up, gripping Joshua’s shoulders firmly. “Look, Soonyoung and Junhui said that - “

 

Fuck. Of fucking course. He should’ve known.

 

“Did they tell you to take me out for dinner?” Joshua manages, keeping his voice controlled.

 

“Uh, well they hinted at - ”

 

“To a fancy restaurant?”

 

“I - yes? But what does - “

 

“And to pull out my chair? And to try and hold my hand? And to pick up the bill at the end?”

 

Not for the first time, Joshua wishes that Seungcheol wasn’t such an open book. The truth would never have been so obvious on someone else’s face.

 

“Look Cheol,” Joshua tries, removing Seungcheol’s hands from his shoulders. He wants to be soft and apologetic, really he does, but right now there’s an ice cold lump in his gut that makes him want to go home and curl up under the covers and shut Soonyoung and Junhui out of his life for a really long time, “I think there’s been a misunderstanding here and tonight’s dinner… it probably didn’t really mean what you thought it did.”

 

“What?” Seungcheol says, raking his hand through his hair in confusion. “Misunderstanding? No but Shua, I - “

 

“Pro-tip,” Joshua interrupts listlessly, shifting his weight to one foot and cradling his left elbow with his right hand, “don’t listen to Soonyoung and Junhui in the future; they give bad advice.” He sighs and slips his hands into the pockets of the long grey overcoat Jeonghan had dressed him in, digging blunt fingernails into his palms to ground himself. “It’s… It’s been a long day, Seungcheol.” Joshua says quietly into the crisp night air, “I think I might head back now.” He manages a weak smile. “Also, I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to come around for the next few weeks. Maybe longer. You’ve got to test out some life skills yourself, y’know? You won’t have me forever.”

 

Seungcheol takes a step towards him saying _wait_ but Joshua is quick to counter it with a step backwards, passing it off as a stumble. He yawns exaggeratedly into his shoulder and laughs humorlessly, “Well, time for me to go I think.” He only makes it a few steps in the direction of the taxi zone when Seungcheol stops him, yanking him into a backhug.

 

“Don’t go.” Seungcheol says. His breath is hot on the nape of Joshua’s neck and Joshua can feel the faint itch of stubble there too. His heart has never been so loud.

 

“Seungcheol, we’re in the middle of the pavement - “

 

“Don’t go.” Seungcheol repeats, hugging him tighter. Joshua can’t see his face from this angle but he sounds so small and vulnerable, speaking against Joshua’s skin. “I know I’m being selfish but I don’t want you to walk away from me like this.”

 

“What are you saying?” Joshua mumbles back, fighting the urge to sag into Seungcheol’s warm embrace. “I’m just tired, Seungcheol. Really tired.”

 

“You don’t have to lie to me,” Seungcheol mutters and Joshua can feel the bob of his adam’s apple as he swallows, “I know you’re too kind to reject me to my face but please, I just need to know.”

 

“Know what?”

 

“Whether you’re rejecting my courtship.” Seungcheol laughs bitterly. “Because it seems like you are but you’ve never said explicitly so - “

 

“C-courtship?” Joshua looks down, centering on where Seungcheol’s arms meet around his middle. He doesn’t want to hope. “Seungcheol… do you know what that word means? It’s not platonic, you know?”

 

“Um,” Seungcheol wonders, a hint of Seungkwan’s sass present, “I should hope not.”

 

“Uh what - “

 

“Hong Joshua,” Seungcheol says seriously, whirling him around so that they’re suddenly face to face, about an arm’s length between them. He takes both of Joshua’s hands in his and clasping them between their bodies. People trying to walk past are looking at them strangely, some scowling as they weave their way around but he’s ignoring them all amidst Joshua’s nervously apologetic head nods, “please don’t tell me you think I’m not culturally literate enough to know what the meanings of my actions are in the human realm.”

 

“You were a seal for like fifty years!”

 

“So?” Seungcheol shakes his head incredulously at him “There are some concepts that remain the same, Shua. Love is definitely one of them.”

 

“Yeah, love.” Joshua latches onto the word, trying to squash down the giddiness swirling in his chest. “Like how much you love Seungkwan right? I mean, isn’t that the only reason you stick around?”

 

“Wow.” Seungcheol chokes out, chewing on his bottom lip. “You really don’t know.”

 

“Know what?”

 

“Why I stick around.” Seungcheol hums, rubbing his thumbs over the back of Joshua’s hands. The ring on his third finger gleams bright under the street lamps. “There’s a long answer and a short answer. Long answer: because I like your smile and your guitar calluses, the way you’re patient with your kids but not your friends, when you get so excited about anime that your eyes start to sparkle, the way you laugh when you tease me or bully me into doing embarrassing things.”

 

“Cheol - “

 

“Because you make me feel like I’m falling in love for the first time - even though I still think you’re secretly evil under that pretty face. Because you make me want to be better, for you and for Kwannie...” Seungcheol breaks off, squeezing Joshua’s hands earnestly. “And because the hold you have on my heart is stronger than the call of the sea.”

 

“And the short answer?” Joshua says, so quiet it barely carries, eyes shining bright.

 

“Short answer,” Seungcheol says and beams at Joshua, bright and heartfelt, lighting up his face, “because you’re Hong Joshua. And you’re one of the best things that have happened to me.” He pauses. “Besides Kwannie. Of course.”

 

“You are too.” Joshua finds himself saying, looking straight at Seungcheol with a lopsided smile. “One of the best things that have happened to me, I mean. Also besides Kwannie.”

 

“Of course.” Seungcheol laughs, a light happy sound that Joshua wants to capture forever and realises, all too belatedly, he can.

 

“Hey Cheol.” Joshua says, tone belying mischief, and before the other can answer, Joshua yanks Seungcheol towards him via their shared hands and catches him with solid hands on his shoulders, migrating up to cup his face. His thumb traces Seungcheol’s lower lip, silently asking for permission.

 

“Hey Shua.” Seungcheol beams, giddy and beautiful and Joshua can’t help but lean in to meet Seungcheol’s lips with his.

 

“Best seal kiss I’ve ever gotten.” He mumbles into Seungcheol’s mouth when they part, making Seungcheol snort in amusement and press his forehead into Joshua’s shoulder. “And that’s counting the one I got at the aquarium when I was nine.”

 

“You’re hilarious.” Seungcheol bites out sarcastically but the fondness of his smile gives him away as he brushes the high of Joshua’s cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. “Shut up and kiss me again.”

**Author's Note:**

> many thanks to the sagc and the mod who deserve more than a christmas miracle for their endless encouragement and support!! thank u especially to E who gave me actual direction for this - luv u guys <3


End file.
